


You Turn It Into Light (Kimi ga Hikari ni Kaete Iku)

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Dialogue, F/M, Injury Recovery, Physical Therapy (vague), Slow Romance, Some Humor, Temporary Blindness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 21:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14962779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: When an extremely rude patient manages to find insults for every single therapist he is assigned, the doctors eventually beg newcomer Arturia to deal with him.





	You Turn It Into Light (Kimi ga Hikari ni Kaete Iku)

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely inspired by a book I read as a child, "Madalé" by Olga Visentini. I don't remember much of it because it was quite old-fashioned, but some of the scenes made an impression on me. I hope you'll enjoy :D
> 
> Title: from a Kalafina song, B-side of their 1st single and also part of the album 'Seventh Heaven'; the lyrics are translated by the canta-per-me forum ;))
> 
> (by the way, Magia and TTB will probably be updated at some point between July and August ;)))

…

……

_Somebody is calling_

……

…

“Please, Arturia, help us!” the doctor wailed, now very close to crying. “You’re our last hope!”

He was the umpteenth in a long list of people who had just come to her, begging for her intervention. The patient they were dealing with had to be truly impossible if he had managed to reduce the entire staff to tears.

According to what she had been told, this particular patient had said different things to each of the doctors and nurses, somehow managing to find the exact snide remark or downright insult that would break every one of them. What was most remarkable about such a feat was the fact that the patient was temporarily blind due to an accident and therefore couldn’t even _see_ the people who entered his room.

Witnessing true hysterical nervousness together with a frantically pleading expression in the eyes of the doctor, Arturia gave in, nodding briefly.

She had never intended to refuse, since in the end she was the newest arrival on the team – she had only been there for a few months – but she was slightly perplexed as to what exactly she could do. After all, everyone else had much more experience than she had, yet they hadn’t been able to deal with the patient; the only reason why they suddenly placed so much responsibility on her shoulders was probably desperation.

The whole room seemed to take a collective breath of relief, and the doctor wiped the tears that had finally escaped his eyes.

“Arturia, you’re a lifesaver!” He looked ready to hug her, but even in his joy, he knew better. “That patient is absolutely insufferable, you are the only one who can deal with him!”

Everyone else nodded emphatically, the nurses especially. They could not refuse to treat the patient, as he was apparently very rich and paid well, but no one had been able to resist more than a few minutes in the same room as him, and every single member of the staff had come out on the verge of tears.

Taking a deep but silent breath, Arturia steeled herself. While she didn’t have years of experience under her belt, she was now familiar with the standard approach to patients recovering from accidents or illnesses and how to introduce them to physical therapy to regain the use of their muscles.

She wasn’t therefore going to let anything intimidate her, not even a patient with a snobbish and arrogant attitude who had managed to bring an entire medical department to its knees.

She noticed, from the corner of her eye, some of the nurses giving her apprehensive glances as she neared the door of the room where the patient was staying. She did not let them faze her; knocking twice briefly, she then entered and swiftly closed the door behind herself.

Contrary to what she had expected, the mysterious patient wasn’t lying in a bed. He was sitting on an armchair, facing away from her, a small table in front of him where a glass of wine was already in place.

Arturia’s eyebrows rose at seeing that, as she knew very well that the clinic’s policies forbade alcohol.

That consideration was however temporarily forgotten when she focused instead on the blond man who had slowly turned his head in her direction. Heavy white bandages covered both his eyes, making it impossible for him to see even if he had not been injured, but Arturia still couldn’t stop herself from staring at him in astonishment.

“Who decided to come and exhaust my patience this time,” he commented, a slightly irritated note in his otherwise monotonous tone.

Arturia kept staring at him for a moment longer. She knew perfectly well that, without the bandages, there would have been a pair of crimson eyes staring back at her.

“Hello, Gilgamesh,” she said slowly, taking a step forward cautiously.

She doubted he remembered who she was, let alone that he recognized her voice, as it had been a few years since she had last seen him, but she was taken aback when he stood up abruptly, vehemence in his movements.

He seemed however to get his feelings under control very quickly, because he then sat down again, looking relaxed and casual. Had she not been staring at him so intently, Arturia would have missed the barely visible hint of tension in his posture that indicated that he wasn’t as unperturbed as he wanted to make her believe.

There was a brief moment of silence before she was taken by surprise once again.

“So instead of becoming a PE teacher, you have decided to enter the field of rehabilitation therapy, Arturia?”

The fact that not only he _did_ recognize her voice but also remembered her very clearly made Arturia go rigid and look at him warily. He had always possessed keen senses, but he was now proving to be capable of being almost frighteningly accurate in his guesses, even a mere few seconds after she had entered the room. She was beginning to see how he had managed to emotionally crush the entire staff in a matter of minutes.

She wasn’t going to allow him to intimidate her though; he may be perceptive, but he was, first and foremost, a patient now placed under her care.

She looked around, finding the cabinet with the medicines and walking towards it to inspect it and to find out which ones he needed to take. She could see his head moving in her direction slightly, obviously following the almost imperceptible sound of her footsteps.

“I’m quite surprised you remember who I am,” she told him while she examined the list of instructions to follow regarding his recovery.

To her amazement, he let out a low chuckle, prompting her to turn around and stare at him once again.

“You have an absolutely stunning talent in making yourself memorable, but I wouldn’t be able to mistake your voice either way.”

Such a statement was so unexpected as to make her unable to find a decent reply, but she could not afford to ponder over it. She focused on the medical record, and her eyebrows rose after a moment, her eyes darting towards him once again.

“Your back muscles haven’t been exercised properly. You shouldn’t have stood up,” she informed him sharply, studying his posture clinically.

No wonder he had seemed to stiffen when he had sat back down. _Pride_ , Arturia thought with some exasperation; he was too proud to admit that standing up had been painful.

She looked around the room, but as she had already assessed previously, there was no equipment and, while a sitting position wasn’t the most practical one for the exercises she needed him to perform, it would have to do. There was after all no possibility to move him somewhere else without making him stand and, since it would have only caused him even more pain, it was something to be avoided.

She strode towards him with purpose. He wasn’t going to be able to stop her from doing her job.

“Your muscles need to be exercised, but slowly and in an appropriate manner, so that you will regain full use of them without damaging your body. Please follow my instructions as we will start with–”

“You are not going to give me orders–” he interrupted her, but she knew exactly how to deal with him in this instance, therefore she interrupted him as well.

“And you will not be drinking any more wine while you are in this clinic.”

Leaning forward, she swiftly lifted the glass from the small table, barely avoiding Gilgamesh’s hand that had shot out to intercept her.

He managed however to catch her other wrist, and his hold was tight.

“Arturia.” Anger was clear in his voice. “This ridiculousness shall stop. It’s preposterous–”

“You are welcome to leave, Gilgamesh,” she coldly reminded him. “No one forces you to be under the care of this clinic – but while you are here, you will respect our rules. We are responsible for your health, and I will not allow you to undermine our efforts.” Almost under her breath, she added, “You reduced enough people to tears as it is.”

His hold tightened even more.

“If you were to cry only because of a few accurate comments, then you would be much weaker than I gave you credit for,” he suddenly replied. “You should be able to surmise that the fact that I’m indescribably bored is the only reason why I wasted my time in choosing designated observations for those fools – but it didn’t make them more interesting in the slightest.”

A strange, tight smile appeared on his lips. “I will not tolerate the presence of any of those simpletons anymore. I might accept this clinic, but only because of _your_ presence.”

“Probably rather because you are in pain if you move around too much,” Arturia countered, feeling slightly frustrated when he didn’t show any outward reaction to those words, but calmly went on as if she hadn’t spoken.

“And you will give me my wine back.”

She narrowed her eyes, still holding the glass with her free hand.

“No. You will not have the glass again.”

A real smirk made its way on his face this time.

“You may be able to force me to cooperate while I’m blind and confined to this place, but on the subject of wine, you will not win.”

…

……

_As if regretting the darkness_

……

…

As it turned out, he was right about that.

Gilgamesh had followed her instructions during the hour she had remained in his room without making things too difficult, but she had left for no more than five minutes when one of the doctors came to speak with her.

He was extremely grateful for her ability to bear with the patient for so long and praised the work she had done with him so far; however, he then told her that it was imperative she granted his request for wine. Arturia objected, bringing up the clinic’s policies, but the doctor begged her to overlook them, as it would keep their difficult patient calmer and happier, and unfortunately, it was something they all desperately needed.

Very reluctantly, she had no choice but to acquiesce, and when she went back to the room, she had to endure all of Gilgamesh’s deceptively innocent remarks about it throughout the rest of the day.

She was so irritated by his having been able to manipulate the situation in his favour – and blatantly ignore the rules at the same time – that it took her more than a week to remind herself to treat him as a person and not just as an extremely irksome patient. After all, she had been acquainted with him a few years before, and was also somewhat in his debt; it was important that she did not forget that.

When she made those considerations and looked past his brazen attitude, she had to admit that she was being slightly unfair. She was a therapist – therefore knowledgeable about limbs and muscles – not a doctor or an oculist, but she had read the medical records about his injury.

He had apparently been in a motorcycle accident, causing considerable damage to his eyes. He had had to undergo three different surgeries, forcing him to stay over two months in a hospital bed, which meant that he was currently regaining the – slow – use of his body.

His anger and frustration at his long period of immobility had made him lose whatever little patience he had ever possessed in the first place, and while he obviously disliked being unable to see anything, what really infuriated him was the feeling of helplessness. That was common for patients, and it was something she could understand and deal with – in fact, it was what had made her decide to become a physiotherapist in the first place.

At the same time, it was rather disconcerting to notice that he learned from his immobile position with almost terrifying rapidness. No matter how silent she was – and she tried hard – she was never able to sneak up on him or take him by surprise. He also seemed to have perfect knowledge of his surroundings, because he was always keenly aware of where she was in the room.

Every day, she spent a few hours in his company, instructing him on the exercises he needed to go through in order to make his muscles recover the flexibility they had lost due to stillness. The rest of the time, she administered him his medicines – he had made it plain that he would not accept anyone else doing that, and none of the nurses was brave enough to defy him – and occasionally left when he had visitors, something that she was slightly shocked to find out happened almost every day.

When she was in the room, there wasn’t often much conversation between them, aside from the necessary instructions she gave him about the exercises. He did not bring up the accident that had rendered him temporarily blind, and she did not ask, as it wasn’t her right to pry into that. All she had to do was make his slow recovery as comfortable as possible, and that included keeping him company while he went through the repetitive movements he needed to do to give his muscles proper mobility again.

At first, since he was focused on learning the exercises, there was always silence, but soon he became used to them and started making off-hand comments about _everything_.

He did not express any more contempt towards the clinic, but he did point out the incompetence he believed the staff was displaying by not being able to treat him and always making _her_ take care of everything.

Nevertheless, he did not criticize her own behaviour; he did sometimes make salacious remarks, but he was then taken aback when she replied. While always keeping in mind that he was her patient, Arturia did not intend to allow him to get his way _and_ always have the last word as well.

Their exchanges of comments became conversations after a while and, as he kept improving, he became more eager to move around on his own. Even though he was able to take in his surroundings without his eyesight, Arturia was strict and made him promise – almost having to blackmail him into it – not to move around on his own, so that he wouldn’t accidentally injure himself.

After a couple of weeks, when preparing the new tools she was going to make him use for the exercises, he unexpectedly asked for permission to touch her hands. She was surprised but, having by then noticed that he was familiar with everything around him as long as he could touch it, she granted it, not thinking much of it.

She was however even more surprised – and even slightly unsettled – by the meticulousness with which he studied and caressed them, almost making her skin burn at such a thorough examination. She had to consciously force herself to keep her hands still and let him finish his perusal instead of yanking them away.

Once he was done and decided to release her, she stepped away from him, collecting the medicines with more rapidness than usual before leaving the room.

She was not going to let his behaviour disquiet her, but she could not deny that she _had_ been unprepared to deal with his sudden gesture.

…

……

_You take me to a world_

……

…

Around six years before, Arturia had first met Gilgamesh by chance, at a party organized by friends they had in common. They had interacted briefly, and he had been both amused and captivated by the fact that she was fighting an uphill battle in her determination to become a PE teacher.

While he had not seemed to take her seriously, he had nonetheless been impressed by her decisiveness, and solely because of that meeting, had decided to pay for her first two semesters of college. She had mentioned needing to find a job right away to pay for it, as it was expensive, and even if she were to save up enough with a job, she would have still had trouble paying for everything.

When she managed to meet him a second time in order to reluctantly and stiffly thank him – as much as it helped her out in her studies, she had never asked nor desired his intervention – he had laughed and increased her irritation by openly enjoying her discomfort.

He had then however sobered up and spoken with unexpected seriousness.

“While there are countless mongrels in the world, there are some people who show glimpses of true potential, and they deserve to have a chance.”

Telling her then that he categorically refused to be paid back – in spite of the fact that she insisted quite determinedly – he had then left without another word.

She had later heard, from others, that he was very rich and occasionally amused himself by being some sort of benefactor, but only for people he selected himself. As she had never met him again – even though she didn’t forget that she owed him a debt – Arturia was then too busy with school to think more about him.

When continuing with her studies, she had discovered that, rather than teaching, she preferred feeling useful in another way and therefore decided to go into rehabilitation therapy. She had graduated and had immediately been hired at the clinic where she was currently employed – and where she had met Gilgamesh again.

He had paid for a part of her studies some years before; now, he had been placed under her care to recover from an accident. As much as he could puzzle her with his strange behaviour and comments, she could not let them stop her from being completely professional.

After the first time in which he had asked to touch her hand, he had started to often grasp her wrist, always finding it with precision, usually just before addressing her about some thing or the other.

When she had questioned him about it, he had claimed that it helped him orientate himself better in the room – even though she had remained unconvinced and hadn’t believed him.

Once, when he had just finished exercising the muscles in his legs – stretching carefully as those were the last ones he had to do for the day – and she was standing near him, judiciously putting away the medicines, he suddenly reached forward.

He was never hesitant, but this time his movements were slow, almost careful, not asking for permission yet giving her the chance to avoid his touch if she wanted to. She turned slightly to face him, wondering what he was trying to do, and his hand found her face.

Still very slowly, his fingers touched her cheek and then travelled over it in a caress, going to her ear and indulging there, studying its shape.

Arturia frowned, confused, and he immediately remarked, “Don’t frown, it’s unbecoming.”

Her eyes narrowed almost of their own accord even as his hand kept moving, but when his fingers lightly touched her lips, she forgot what she wanted to say.

Abruptly, she pulled back, making his hand remain empty in the air, no longer touching her skin.

“Stop this,” she ordered shortly. “It’s one thing to want to understand your surroundings, it’s another to invade someone’s personal space simply because of curiosity.”

To her slight bewilderment, he did not look perturbed and what was visible of his expression remained completely composed.

“I haven’t seen you in years,” he told her. “I wanted to know if your traits have changed. And I gave you time to push me away, as you ultimately did.”

“If you remember my voice, then you should remember my face as well,” she replied with some coldness. “You don’t need to _feel_ my skin, as I can assure you I haven’t changed much.”

He gave an unexpected, small smile.

“That’s slightly incorrect,” he contradicted her. “While I definitely don’t need my eyes nor my touch to know that you are as beautiful as I remember you to be, I do need to feel that you are _real_.”

She had no answer to give him after such an extraordinary declaration. Gathering the medicines, she quietly left his room.

…

……

_As bright as this_

……

…

Their odd conversation wasn’t brought up again, not even when, a few weeks later, his bandages were removed, only to be replaced by new, thinner ones and dark glasses that he could not take off. He could not see much yet aside from indistinct shadows, but it was a sign that his eyesight was slowly coming back.

In the days after the change, she could already notice an improvement, as he did all his exercises without complaining and with ease. He seemed to always look around with great interest, even though she knew that everything he saw was extremely hazy.

To distract him as he started on his more dreary arms exercises, she asked him, “What exactly are you currently able to see?”

“Nothing but vague shapes,” he answered readily, as if he had expected her to ask him about it. “However, it proves to be quite… curious, as well. Before, it was all darkness; now, since I know where everything is, when I think of something, I manage to at least glimpse a shadow of it.”

Arturia found it a peculiar reasoning, and it made her interested enough to prompt her to ask, “Could you please make an example?”

He smirked and then gestured with his hand towards the table, where there were two small medicine bottles and his unmissable glass of wine.

“When I search for wine, I think of red,” he described. “A strong, powerful, delicious red.” Arturia rapidly glanced at the glass, seeing that it perfectly agreed with his description. “When I look for those distasteful substances,” the medicines received an acerbic turn of his head in their direction, “I think of grey or beige – all the boring but unfortunately also necessary colours the eye likes to overlook.”

In spite of herself, Arturia was beginning to become genuinely curious about such a point of view. She asked him therefore about the couch, which he declared to be a comfortable green exactly as it was, then about the door – called an anonymous light brown – and then about almost every other object in the room.

By the time she had asked about anything that came to mind, he had finished all his exercises and was ready to rest for the day. Before she could leave, however, he grasped her wrist, in an oddly loose grip.

“You didn’t ask me about yourself,” he commented, releasing her once he was certain he had her attention.

Barely holding herself back from raising her eyebrows in exasperation, Arturia decided to humour him, mainly because spending most of the day with him had strangely been something close to pleasant this time.

“Very well,” she said with a small sigh. “What do you think of when you search for me?”

She had never seen Gilgamesh smile before, and she couldn’t help gaping at the unexpected sight.

“ _Light,_ ” he replied, his voice firm and managing to hold her almost hypnotized. “You are the light amidst the darkness.”

Arturia found herself leaving his room swiftly and silently, this time with her face aflame, as she was once again unnervingly unable to find an adequate reply.

…

……

_I am still cowering from the radiance_

……

…

After what he had told her, she refused to spend any more time in talking with him about anything that wasn’t strictly related to his recovery. No matter the approach he tried, she always rebuffed him; he was her patient, and she was determined to treat him as such while he was her responsibility – nothing more, nothing less.

It seemed that this time she was going to be lucky because, a little over a week after their last conversation, he was discharged from the clinic – his physical recovery complete – and sent home, only his sight still needing to return completely.

From one day to the other, Arturia found herself with a lot of time on her hands. The doctors were beyond pleased with her having dealt with the difficult patient with such professionalism, therefore were adamant about giving her an entire week free, aside from a substantial pay raise.

She insisted however that she didn’t wish for free time and merely requested that the next patients assigned to her had to be children and no longer adults. Knowing that they owed her and understanding why she desired a change, the doctors agreed to her terms immediately.

It was odd to realize how she suddenly noticed the difference from the previous months, and even odder when she realized that what she missed – actually _missed_ – were Gilgamesh’s strange remarks.

Working with children was a relief though, as it provided her with a completely different environment and forced her to use an approach that was deeply dissimilar – in fact, it was almost the complete opposite – from the one she had been forced to use with her previous patient.

…

……

_You gently hug my back_

……

…

Several weeks later, she had just finished helping with the exercises of her second-to-last patient for the day. Arturia complimented the little girl on her almost full recovery and left the room, closing the door behind herself.

“Arturia.”

She froze, because she recognized that voice right away. Turning around, she met a pair of burning crimson eyes, intensely staring straight at her.

“What are you doing here?” she uttered after a long silence, managing to regain some modicum of calmness.

He was obviously completely healed, because his gaze was firm and unwavering as it followed her movements sharply.

“To see you, of course,” he answered smoothly, a slow smirk very visibly making its way on his face. “I had learned to appreciate being blind mostly so that I could listen to the various nuances in your tone, guess your mood by your step and even imagine your face as you frowned…” Noticing her begin to scowl slightly at his words, his smirk widened into a grin. “But as interesting, un-ironically eye-opening and _precious_ as simply feeling you with my other senses was, seeing you now for real is much, much better.”

He took a few steps closer, standing right in front of her, such intensity in his eyes as to make her breath slightly unsteady. “You spread even more light than you are aware of,” he commented, glancing briefly between her and the door she had just closed, before fully focusing on her again.

Arturia inhaled, realizing she had almost forgotten to breathe.

“I’m glad you have recovered from your injury,” she told him earnestly, if a little stiffly.

Then she steeled herself and looked directly into his now healed eyes. “I have another patient right now,” she explained as she glanced at the large clock in the corridor briefly. “Afterwards, if you don’t mind, we probably need to have a very honest conversation.”

His eyes had a momentary flash.

“When has my conversation ever _not_ been honest, Arturia?”

This time, she held his gaze impassively.

“You know very well that I mean _direct_ and _open_ , so that there isn’t the possibility of any misunderstandings,” she replied firmly.

He stared at her, his expression changing only fractionally, but it was enough for her to nod at him, smiling very, very faintly. Turning around, she walked to her next patient’s door, ready to go back to work.

She knew that he was going to be there once her shift was over, and in spite of herself, a small smile appeared on her lips once again.

…

……

_Towards the future_

……

…


End file.
